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Growing up I wanted to be a superhero, and in some instances a super-robot. I was in first grade when I used to daydream about being in control of Johnny Socko's Flying Robot (I am seriously dating myself) and doodle epic battles where I was the robot.

But there was really no way I was going to pull off owning a Japanese robot. Moving right along to the world of D.C. and Marvel Comics, I quickly fell in love with and fell in love with the idea of being Superman, Batman, Spiderman, the Hulk, and practically every other hero in the Marvel Universe.

In reality, I was more like Charlie Brown (my overall favorite) and like he and his dog, Snoopy, life in my head became a lot more vivid than the actual life I was living. The majority of the fame I experienced as a child was as a science fair champion and a 1st place finisher in most of the piano competitions I was entered into by my parents.

And things stayed this way until I was on my own.

Along the way I experienced some success in sports, primarily as a track & field athlete (the 400m dash was my specialty). And then in college, I pledged a fraternity (to date this was one of the most emotionally demanding, physically grueling and insane things I've ever chosen to do).

Still in pursuit of grandeur, I decided to settle in New York City and eke it out for a little bit following the old adage: If you can make it in NY, you can make it anywhere.

And for reasons that have been boggling my mind for the last few days, all I've ever taken since arriving here are mind-numbing, life-sucking desk jobs. Some have been more glamorous than others, but at the end of the day, all them have been boring as hell.

And now I'm a parent in my mid-thirties with a youthful enthusiasm and vigor that I cling to with my very essence. I'm plagued by the idea of growing old and not realizing some of the things I've always dreamed of being.

Because both my parents were educators, I don't think they noticed all of the creative signs I exhibited early on. For my father it was work, work, work. For my mom it was pray, pray, pray. Grow, grow, grow was missing from this. There wasn't too much time in between to actually discover myself as a child.

When finally left up to my own devices, I didn't know what to do, or where to go to get it going for myself. But I hold no grudges because now I have wisdom to accompany me in all my decision making. I have the luxury of making less mistakes as I continue on my path.

Now to the point of all this.

I've been completely re-invigorated by the Beijing Olympics. It was an awesome 2 weeks that had me glued to the television from 8pm to 2 am for 14 days straight and left me a complete mess both at work and home. My daughter sat with me through most of the games imitating the divers, gymnasts and sprinters. She's also been banging on everything (including my dome) with a decent degree of syncopation.

Now does this mean I attempt to have her beating a drum while she balances on the pommel horse to dismount into a 100m sprint? No, is the short answer. But I am in the position to direct her path a bit based on what I see her naturally exhibiting.

My son, a nice young man that I'd like to focus a bit more, is quite the football player who has recently taken up an interest in basketball. During games, whether he has the ball or not, he's running down the field like a runaway freight train. While watching an umpteenth sprint event these past Games, I realized running track might be a reasonable additional outlet for his raw talent. Like Michael Phelps, he's a bit awkward with mismatched proportions that just might spell victory for him, if not domination, in an individual sport. I had to work for my speed. Like a young man named, Usain Bolt, my son's comes naturally. It's up to him ultimately, but I'd love to see him harness it.

My dreams aren't over by any means, but my kids' are just beginning. I intend on doing as much as possible to facilitate making them happen.

Growing up I wanted to be a superhero, and in some instances a super-robot. I was in first grade when I used to daydream about being in control of Johnny Socko's Flying Robot (I am seriously dating myself) and doodle epic battles where I was the robot.

But there was really no way I was going to pull off owning a Japanese robot. Moving right along to the world of D.C. and Marvel Comics, I quickly fell in love with and fell in love with the idea of being Superman, Batman, Spiderman, the Hulk, and practically every other hero in the Marvel Universe.

In reality, I was more like Charlie Brown (my overall favorite) and like he and his dog, Snoopy, life in my head became a lot more vivid than the actual life I was living. The majority of the fame I experienced as a child was as a science fair champion and a 1st place finisher in most of the piano competitions I was entered into by my parents.

And things stayed this way until I was on my own.

Along the way I experienced some success in sports, primarily as a track & field athlete (the 400m dash was my specialty). And then in college, I pledged a fraternity (to date this was one of the most emotionally demanding, physically grueling and insane things I've ever chosen to do).

Still in pursuit of grandeur, I decided to settle in New York City and eke it out for a little bit following the old adage: If you can make it in NY, you can make it anywhere.

And for reasons that have been boggling my mind for the last few days, all I've ever taken since arriving here are mind-numbing, life-sucking desk jobs. Some have been more glamorous than others, but at the end of the day, all them have been boring as hell.

And now I'm a parent in my mid-thirties with a youthful enthusiasm and vigor that I cling to with my very essence. I'm plagued by the idea of growing old and not realizing some of the things I've always dreamed of being.

Because both my parents were educators, I don't think they noticed all of the creative signs I exhibited early on. For my father it was work, work, work. For my mom it was pray, pray, pray. Grow, grow, grow was missing from this. There wasn't too much time in between to actually discover myself as a child.

When finally left up to my own devices, I didn't know what to do, or where to go to get it going for myself. But I hold no grudges because now I have wisdom to accompany me in all my decision making. I have the luxury of making less mistakes as I continue on my path.

Now to the point of all this.

I've been completely re-invigorated by the Beijing Olympics. It was an awesome 2 weeks that had me glued to the television from 8pm to 2 am for 14 days straight and left me a complete mess both at work and home. My daughter sat with me through most of the games imitating the divers, gymnasts and sprinters. She's also been banging on everything (including my dome) with a decent degree of syncopation.

Now does this mean I attempt to have her beating a drum while she balances on the pommel horse to dismount into a 100m sprint? No, is the short answer. But I am in the position to direct her path a bit based on what I see her naturally exhibiting.

My son, a nice young man that I'd like to focus a bit more, is quite the football player who has recently taken up an interest in basketball. During games, whether he has the ball or not, he's running down the field like a runaway freight train. While watching an umpteenth sprint event these past Games, I realized running track might be a reasonable additional outlet for his raw talent. Like Michael Phelps, he's a bit awkward with mismatched proportions that just might spell victory for him, if not domination, in an individual sport. I had to work for my speed. Like a young man named, Usain Bolt, my son's comes naturally. It's up to him ultimately, but I'd love to see him harness it.

My dreams aren't over by any means, but my kids' are just beginning. I intend on doing as much as possible to facilitate making them happen.